Remind Me of This
by CracksinthePavement
Summary: So what emotion is that called? The one where I don’t mind just sitting with her and talking, where she puts so many things in perspective that I can understand? Companionship, friendship? It would be such an easy answer. But then why did I kiss her?AU


Yea. . .look what I started. I've got big plans for this one but for now I just want to put up the prologue/teaser to see what you guys think. 

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Fitter Happier- Radiohead

more productive  
comfortable  
not drinking too much  
regular exercise at the gym (3 days a week)  
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries  
at ease  
eating well (no more microwave dinners and saturated fats)  
a patient better driver  
a safer car (baby smiling in back seat)  
sleeping well (no bad dreams)  
no paranoia  
careful to all animals (never washing spiders down the plughole)  
keep in contact with old friends (enjoy a drink now and then)  
will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in wall)  
favours for favours  
fond but not in love  
charity standing orders  
on sundays ring road supermarket  
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants)  
car wash (also on sundays)  
no longer afraid of the dark  
or midday shadows  
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate  
nothing so childish  
at a better pace  
slower and more calculated  
no chance of escape  
now self-employed  
concerned (but powerless)  
an empowered and informed member of society (pragmatism not idealism)  
will not cry in public  
less chance of illness  
tires that grip in the wet (shot of baby strapped in back seat)  
a good memory  
still cries at a good film  
still kisses with saliva  
no longer empty and frantic  
like a cat  
tied to a stick  
that's driven into  
frozen winter shit (the ability to laugh at weakness)  
calm  
fitter, healthier and more productive  
a pig  
in a cage  
on antibiotics

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Remind Me of This 

Prologue/Teaser

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"I swear, I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Inuyasha, you always do something for a reason, even though I usually question your reasons for doing so. . . On the other hand, I have to give you a thumbs up for this one, buddy."

"But it was a mistake!" He was beginning to get exasperated now.

"Why was it such a big mistake? You care about her. . . she seems to adore you, what's the problem?"

"I have no idea! There wouldn't be a problem if the wench hadn't gone all wacky on me afterwards; _she's_ the one with the problem!" 

"Inuyasha, you aren't making any sense. Maybe if you actually took the initiative to explain the whole story, I would know how to help you with your women's trouble."

"I don't have women's trouble! It was just a fucking kiss! I was fine with it, if anything SHE is the one who has problems with men!"

"Inuyasha. . . I wouldn't call you a man; your maturity level is practically non-existent. Now if our positions were switched, I would agree with the statement," He said with a slight grin.

Frustration was a funny thing. He had about a thousands comments to make to that, yet the only sound he could manage was a low growl in the back of his throat. 

"You see the difference between you and I," he continued, "is that I know how to give women the appreciation they deserve and have my undeniably talented way with words, whereas your idea of sweet talk is a series of grunts."

"Your idea of appreciation is a smack on the ass." He retorted once he was able to make and understandable comment.

"Caress, Inuyasha, _caress_. Really, do you have to be so crude?"

Another rumble was unleashed from his throat. "Damn it Miroku! We're getting off topic here; can't you think with your head instead of what's in your pants for a couple of minutes?!"

Miroku sighed helplessly and scratched his head. "Honestly, Inuyasha, who taught you how to talk? Maybe that's why she freaked out on you: your inability to communicate properly."

He wasn't sure what he expected from talking to Miroku, maybe some clarity on the events that had happened. After all, Miroku _did_ have his way with girls. Well, maybe that was a bad example. He certainly had his way with girls; he just didn't know the difference between talking to their face and talking to their chest.

He should have gone somewhere else for advice. 

Not that he had many friends that he could talk to without wanting to rip out their tongues. Well, he managed to restrain himself with Miroku. . . barely.

He didn't understand why he was brooding on this. Was it really that it important to him? She was just. . . she was his best friend and he was afraid that he fucked that up.

God, what the hell was he thinking?

_'How did I get into this mess?'_

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I hardly ever saw her. I was the new kid and she was . . . she was something else entirely; there really was no word to describe her. Well, I might be able to describe her but it would take a lot of words and I'm not too good with those. But I will try to describe her using our circumstances. 

Like I said, at first I hardly ever saw her. Some people may have this deluded theory that it was fate and that's the reason I sometimes saw her out of the corner of my eye, but it wasn't like that either. She was the type of person who stood out no matter where you were and I'm sure it was impossible for anyone to miss her bold mouth. At first I thought her to be repulsive. I came from a very wealthy family and she was just some nobody girl. 

She was poor. The way she dressed—repulsive. The way she talked, like she didn't have to be mindful about what she said. She acted like she had no boundaries and I was surrounded by a hundred fences wherever I walked, guard dogs and all.

So whenever I saw her rushing down the street with her wild hair flying in all directions, I lifted my nose up and ignored her. 

I didn't even know her but I hated her and whenever I saw her black head, I'd scoff. Her hair was black like a crow. She was an annoying screeching crow who should be shot just to stop her voice from reaching my ears.

Of course in this state of mind I sounded like a complete bastard. Well I don't admit this often but I truly was. I blame it on my bitterness because of moving. I hate moving because once the people around you finally notice that you despise them and want them to stop sucking on your life, your given a whole new set of people and the process starts all over again. 

Some people like to talk, some people like to listen, and then there are those who don't give a damn either way. I was one of those. If I wasn't telling people to shut up then I was getting anger at them for staring at me. Still, if I were forced to socialize with one of the two, I would tend to lean towards those who like to listen because it's quieter that way.

Anyway, I got over my reasonless hatred when I had one of those moments when you're so afraid that you are turning into your parents. That thought alone snapped me out of that conceited mood like a cold shower and my deliberate acts of ignoring her turned into something else entirely. 

 I went to a private school for boys and was always so relived knowing that people like her weren't there to distract me. Well, I mean she didn't distract me. It's just hard when your walking down the street minding your own business there's always people like her starting scenes and yelling while they make a mad dash down the sidewalk. At the time I hadn't realized that she was actually running from something. I just remember her always laughing. Even from a distance you could tell that she just treated life like one big ride and I envied her for having the freedom to live that way.

I lived in a big house. A very large house and it's very purpose was to show outsiders just how rich we were and the extravagant garden was in front of it to show that yes, we could afford it and yes, we liked to smoother it in everyone else's face. The really sad part was that we didn't even need the house to show the world how important we were. I think about the entire community knew the name Reikoku.

You're also probably right in assuming that with the fame and fortune attached to my name, I had no trouble fitting in at school. With my life, I truly understood the meaning of living in a fishbowl. It was even harder because we were still people with normal lives. We weren't movies stars who produce their image through their movies. We weren't so unreal like they were and so people thought that with us, a family that they could relate to on some level, they could attain a sense of importance and even give themselves the credit of claiming to understand the world that we came from. To them we were second best from stardom, a position that seemed almost possible.

So it was a little surprising when I finally did run into her, quite literally and quite painfully. She looked at me like it was routine to run into someone as important as I was. I half expected her to bow down at my feet and kiss the dirt off my shoes. It didn't exactly happen that way.

I was traveling down the sidewalk minding my own business with my head up straight, walking with a purpose. I didn't want to take the car. I would only take it to avoid people, but even then it would be defeating the purpose; it was so flashy that I would only succeed in drawing more attention to myself. 

It was after school and while all the young teenagers were out celebrating their temporary freedom, I was depressing over the never-ending cycle that seemed to have taken over my life.

That is until I had the wind knocked out of me.

"What the hell—"

"Ouch! Jeez, of all the days…"

The object of my discomfort was sprawled at my feet, slowly getting on her feet while dusting herself off. I stood with my breath coming out in irregular pants while I expectantly waited for a late (but completely necessary) apology. 

"Wow, I'm really sorry about that" she said while retying the shoe that had probably come undone in our clashing.

. . . is that it? She didn't even look at my face; does she even know who she's talking to? I waited, justly giving her the benefit of the doubt and a chance to redeem herself. But she still directed her attention at the object on her foot rather than me. This did not sit well with me.

"Well you should be, wench! The sidewalks are for pedestrians who have places to be, not a track for running!"

She stood up as if to achieve a better position of defending herself. It didn't matter much though, she was still short and I knew my glare could make anyone back down.

When she lifted her head, I was momentarily surprised by how dark her eyes were. But like I said, momentarily as in about less than a second.

"Well Mr. Reikoku, I hadn't realized that you lowered yourself to be classified among us pedestrians."

Ok. . . so she knew who I was—what the hell?

"Listen hear, bitch, you're the one who ran into me. It's not my fault you're clumsy; I have every right to be rude and you should be the one apologizing."

I was getting rather annoyed that she still wasn't cowering away from me, yet I was strangely satisfied at seeing her cheeks flush red from containing her anger that I had caused. 

"I case you're deaf—which I don't think is the case, you were able to hear me when I offered one earlier."

"That wasn't an apology to me, it was to your shoes!"

"Well I'm so sorry that I didn't top it off with a curtsy! It was an accident, although I suppose being Mr. Perfect, you wouldn't understand the concept of being human! PLEASE forgive me your grace. Was that to your satisfaction?"

"For god sake, woman! All I wanted was a _proper_ non-sarcastic filled apology. At least I'm not the one with a stick up their ass."

"Well you will be the one with my foot up your ass if you stop being so petty and let me get home!"

I'm not sure why I couldn't just let the argument go. She wasn't giving in as easily as I had expected and there was no way I was going to let her have the last words. I had to put her in her place.

"PETTY! It's called common courtesy. I should hope even someone of your status can grasp the concept."

"My status." She said in a deadpan voice. "Well, now that I feel so unworthy of being within your presence, I guess I should be going."

And just like that her look had become frozen and the fire that had been leaping out of her eyes just moments ago had been extinguished.  I thought I would be pleased that I finally said something to put an end to the argument, but there was something like disappointment inside me when the argument ended too soon. What was that all about?

"Just putting you in your place." I said after a moment.

If it were possible, her gaze hardened even more and with rigid shoulders, she turned on her heel and walked away. She didn't stomp or let out any sound that indicated how she felt. What happened to the girl that had been yelling at my face?

I tried to brush it off and dismiss the earlier feeling of disappointment. I had managed to say the last word; what else mattered? My point had been proven, dignity intact and all.

Of course, then she had to go and surprise me for a second time that day. Or was it a third? It was had to make sense of anything where this girls was concerned.

I hadn't realized I was still starring at her back when she suddenly turned around. 

"You know Mr. Reikoku, you may have the money, the status, the power and all it's luxuries. But take it all away and your no one. You're a person just like me. To the world, you're just another number. "

With that said, she pivoted and restarted her even walk down the sidewalk.

And there I stood, still standing and still watching her walk away. What the hell was that suppose to mean? 

I finally shook my head and continued my journey home as if the strange encounter had never happened. Well, on the outside things seemed the same, but my brain was still ticking with her words ringing in my head.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized that she was the one who managed to get the last word.

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". . . "

 ". . . "

". . .So. . . where's the part where you kiss her senseless?"

"Stupid pervert."

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Confused? Maybe. Let me know what you think.

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End file.
